


under a sky of electric stars

by Shadaras



Category: Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Politics, Speeder Chase
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:20:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22622416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shadaras/pseuds/Shadaras
Summary: Obi-Wan Kenobi has been assigned to escort Padmé Amidala on a mission to Corellia in hopes of convincing their government to align with the Republic in the early days of war. Unfortunately for Obi-Wan's nerves, these negotiations don't stay in the boardrooms, and he and Padmé end up in a speeder chase.
Relationships: Padmé Amidala/Obi-Wan Kenobi
Comments: 6
Kudos: 43
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	under a sky of electric stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisbluespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisbluespirit/gifts).



It wasn’t supposed to be like this, Obi-Wan reflected as they swerved through the understreets of Corellia. They were supposed to be doing politics, not— _this_.

At least there hadn’t been any blaster bolts yet, though he could see the possibility of them in their pursuers’ attitude and also the make of their speeder. He wished he didn’t need to know that. He wished even more that this had been the nice peaceful diplomatic mission it had been described as when he’d been assigned to escort Padmé while Anakin did a month-long training in spaceship maintenance that sounded very useful and also like something Obi-Wan would simply get in the way of.

“Duck!” Padmé called, and Obi-Wan crouched in the back of the speeder, automatically grabbing hold of the rail as Padmé turned a corner. He didn’t hear anything scrape, which was good, and as Padmé flattened them out onto a crowded street he raised himself up again cautiously, scanning for any sign of their pursuers. He didn’t activate his lightsaber. They’d be too much of a target, then. As Padmé flew them through the understreets with confidence, Obi-Wan almost wished his padawan were the one flying instead; as much as he hated Anakin’s death-defying piloting stunts, at least he knew the Force was guiding his actions.

Padmé, on the other hand, was using her merely human reflexes to dart through crowded Corellian traffic. Obi-Wan suspected she’d learned those skills on Coruscant pretending to be her own handmaid. As they came out of the narrow gap, Obi-Wan saw the other speeder—bulky with armor and weapons they didn’t have—turn away. He sighed and slouched into the passenger seat next to Padmé. “I think you lost them.”

“Good.” Padmé handed Obi-Wan a datapad. “Make yourself useful and figure out where we are and how to get back to the Highrises. I’m curious if exaggerated rumours of my capture or demise have already reached the executives.”

Obi-Wan took the datapad, bringing up local maps as he remarked, “If they’re any good, they’d be giving those rumours now.”

Padmé snorted. “That’s how we’d know they _weren’t_ good. False information that can be so easily and decisively countered is pointless.”

“You know that realm better than I do.” Obi-Wan shook his head as he looked for convenient landmarks. Even if they were safe, he didn’t want to use tracking beacons if he didn’t need to. “Who would send assassins after us?”

“Off the top of my head? At least five corporations and ten executive officials, if someone convinced them it was worth it.”

“You think—”

“I love you, but you’re being intentionally obtuse right now.” Padmé looked away from the swarm of humanity for just long enough to fix him with a steely glare. “Use those lauded Jedi instincts.”

Obi-Wan placed the datapad on her dash, a route highlighted in yellow against the blue lines of buildings. Then he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing deeply to settle himself and let his memories filter the last hour’s madcap chase into meaning. There had been a symbol on the pursuer’s armor, hastily scrubbed off, but by the shape of it… “Gowix,” he said as his eyes flashed open, grabbing hold of the speeder’s edge with one hand and the datapad with the other as Padmé shot them straight up an alley he hadn’t thought they’d had clearance for. Padmé thought otherwise, and was—unfortunately for his nerves—right.

“The computer people?”

“They make the central processors battle droids use.” Obi-Wan shook his head. “Mr. Vryx has been needling us this entire time.”

“Marshal Extresis-Voi and Executor Uo have been doing the same thing,” Padmé pointed out, jinking around a speeder bike. “Why not Carmine Combines or CSY?”

Obi-Wan used the Force to deflect fluid—hopefully just runoff from some rain—falling from above. They were almost out of the understreets and back to the surface levels; Corellia wasn’t as built-up as Coruscant, though it seemed to be doing its best to go that way, in the capital at least. “CSY doesn’t care who Corellia sides with as long as they get paid to build ships. CarCo just doesn’t like Jedi.”

Padmé’s curiosity radiated in the Force, but she didn’t push. “So it’s Gowix.”

“The Diktat won’t like that.”

“So long as he believes us, it doesn’t matter if he likes it.”

“The executive board will like it less.”

Padmé snorts. “Depends on how we go about telling them.”

Obi-Wan nodded, and didn’t respond. They were slowing down to normal speeds in the overcity, travelling in legal—and therefore observed—areas. Most visitors to Corellia wouldn’t be tracked, but the Republic Senator visiting to ask them to actually _involve_ themselves in the outbreak of war? Obi-Wan had been able to feel eyes following them since before they reached the planet itself.

At least now they knew whose eyes, and why.

“My dear,” he said at last, as they wound their way up to the shining skyscraper that housed Corellia’s bureaucracy—which he found even more frustratingly full of twisted rules and laws than usual. “Do you have a plan?”

Padmé reached out a hand and took his. “Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

“Good.” She looked at him, eyes shining in the madcap way that he’d fallen for to begin with. “Because you aren’t going to like my plan.”

Obi-Wan sighed and squeezed her hand. “Then it must be a good one. I never like those.”

“It’s going to involve Cordé.”

“Fuck.” Obi-Wan looked up at the twinkling lights of Corellia. “I’m going to hate this plan. What dangerous stunt are you pulling this time, Padmé?”

She laughed, and began to tell him.

As predicted, he didn’t like it.

In the end, Mr. Vryx ended up revealing his whole plan in front of the Diktat, though, and the Diktat was horrified enough by the idea that Mr. Vryx was attempting to kill a Jedi and a senator that he agreed to schedule a proper meeting to discuss the possibility of aiding the Republic against the Confederacy, which was what they had wanted all along. If Obi-Wan had, in the process, been forced to play the fool, well—

It wasn’t the hardest thing he’d done for Padmé.

( _That_ was, and would always be, choosing to love her as deeply as he did.)


End file.
